Hesitantly we mumble apologies
Even if our sin was truly original,
Our fathers ,the fathers who did .
We keep calling down their souls
Who never seem to rest in peace,
Even after we said it many times.
We are hesitant about apologies
Not knowing who we owe them.
We fling them general direction.
General direction is where crows
Sit on afternoon walls spiked with
Glass pieces to prevent thieves in.
It is where the sun rises the usual
As some one lies in a front room
Cold on ice block slowly melting.
We estimate a general direction
And we fling old man’s apology.
We will add ours in a due time.